


Honey

by jane_x80



Series: Couples Therapy [10]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs, McGee and Bishop are trapped and need Tony to locate and rescue them. McGee asks Gibbs why he calls Tony 'Honey'.</p>
<p>Takes place sometime in the future (unspecified) but a week before Gibbs is due to retire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note that this story takes place in an unspecified future date, a week prior to Gibbs' retirement. From now on when I write in this 'verse I'll probably be writing in random chronological order depending on where the plot bunnies and the muse are the strongest. So I hope you bear with me. ;)

When he starts to wake up, all he feels is pain. All over. His head, his neck, his back, his knees. Everything hurts, making him not want to move.

Tony is right. He needs to stop falling asleep under the boat and coming up to bed like a regular human being. Why he sometimes forgets to come up to snuggle into bed with Tony’s enticing warm body, he doesn’t know, but that is just how he is sometimes. He is lucky that Tony is so patient with him and has always been understanding of his need to sequester himself in the basement. Tony’s even been known to come down and snuggle into his body under the boat if the bed gets too lonely.

He realizes that he is on a cold, hard floor. Which isn’t right. Tony always keeps several thick, warm blankets under the boat for him and his under-the-boat sleeping habits. Also, the pain in his head is excruciating and not the usual crick in the neck headache he gets from sleeping awkwardly under the boat. He struggles to open his eyes. Blinking his eyes blearily, he turns his head minutely and as unobtrusively as possible to survey his surroundings. He is lying on a concrete floor, and it looks like it’s some kind of subterranean area – like a damp basement or cellar or something. He doesn’t see any movement, but he does see two figures slumped on the floor, one on each side of him.

He stays unmoving for another long moment to get a feel for the room, using all of his senses to ascertain his situation. He cannot feel anyone watching them, and other than the two figures next to him there is no one else in the room. He has always been good at sensing when he is being watched and an almost unnatural ability to get a feel for a room and its occupants without even looking, a very helpful thing in his line of work. Cautiously, he turns onto his side, trying not to wince or moan as his head explodes with pain. But he must have made a sound because the figure to his right begins moving – struggling against their bonds. He realizes that it is Bishop and she has been hogtied – arms bound behind her back, and secured to her legs so she is curled outwards uncomfortably – and she has been blindfolded and gagged.

“Shh, Bishop,” he says.

“Guhvs?” Bishop says around the gag, struggling even harder.

He pulls the blindfold off and puts a finger to his lips, and when Bishop sees him, she immediately quiets down and stays still as he undoes the gag. He feels around his pockets – his hip holster is empty but he still has a knife hidden away on his person. Unfolding it with a metallic snikt, he cuts Bishop loose.

“I’m not hurt,” Bishop quietly answers his unspoken question. He nods an answer.

As she starts massaging her wrists and ankles to get blood flow back, he examines the other figure. It is McGee and he is unconscious. He is bleeding from a bullet wound to his side. Gibbs takes his jacket off and pushes down on the wound, trying to stem the blood flow. McGee is deathly pale, his pulse is thready and fast, and he seems to be sweating too much.

Everything is coming back to him now. He, McGee and Bishop had been following a lead on the weapons smuggling that they had uncovered going from a Marine weapons depot and leading eventually to a remote farmhouse in Virginia. Tony had stayed behind to attend some mandatory workshop with the new probie on their team. Gibbs and McGee had knocked on the front door while Bishop had been working her way around the back of the house. A little old lady had opened the door and invited them in, and he and McGee had fallen for it. Before they knew it, they’d been overpowered by a group of well-armed men, McGee had been shot during the struggle, and he vaguely remembers being pistol whipped. He touches the bump on his head – no wonder his head was hurting so much. He was probably concussed, based on the nausea he was feeling. Tony was not going to be pleased with him.

“Is McGee OK?” Bishop asked anxiously.

“He’s alive,” Gibbs said, his tone telling Bishop the seriousness of the situation. “Recon, Bishop.”

Nodding, Bishop starts walking around the space while Gibbs tries to rouse McGee by slapping his face. Bishop returns shortly.

“We’re alone. No windows. One exit, barred from the outside, metal door so we can’t break out or pick the lock. I don’t see the hinges on this side either, so we can’t try to undo the hinges and get out that way. We’re in a basement or a subterranean bunker of some sort. I think we’re stuck down here,” she tries to keep the tremor out of her voice. “How’s McGee?”

“Shot,” Gibbs says shortly, still working to rouse McGee.

“Found some empty weapons crates – looks like the missing weapons shipment came through here, Gibbs.”

“Fuck. And we walked right into it,” Gibbs growled. “Come on, wake up McGee. Tim. Timothy!”

Finally McGee groans and his eyelids flutter open. “Boss?” he asks, trying to sit up and groaning in pain.

“Stay still. You’ve been shot,” Gibbs tells him.

“Shit. What happened?” McGee frowns.

“Ambushed. I guess the smuggled weapons were brought here.”

Bishop shrugs, frowning. “We never told Tony where we were headed after our last stop,” she says worriedly. “Nobody knows we’re here.”

“DiNozzo will come for us,” Gibbs says with quiet certainty. He looks at his watch. They have been here for nearly six hours now. He gives it no more than two hours before Tony finds them.

“No cell signal here,” McGee gasps, his breaths coming in short shallow pants. “We knew that coming in. They’ve probably disabled the GPS in the car. Seemed like a professional group.”

Gibbs nods, keeping pressure on McGee’s side.

“Boss,” McGee sees the look on Gibbs’ face and knows that it’s bad. And if he doesn’t get medical help and soon, that it will be the end. “Tell Delilah…”

“You will tell her yourself,” Gibbs interrupted him. “DiNozzo’s on his way.”

“You don’t know that, Boss.”

“Yes, I do,” Gibbs says, his certainty disquieting. Bishop stares at him in shock. “DiNozzo will be here soon, and McGee – Tim – you’re not going anywhere. How am I supposed to retire next week if DiNozzo’s Senior Field Agent, the only person I trust to watch his six, isn’t going to be there for him?”

McGee takes a moment to think this through and his logical mind accepts this. “Good point, Boss.”

“You can’t let DiNozzo down, can you?” Gibbs asks him softly.

“N-no, Boss,” McGee gasps, “I can’t let Tony down.”

Gibbs nods. “Atta boy, McGee. DiNozzo’s coming and he’ll bring help. You’ll be OK. You can tell Delilah whatever it is you want to tell her yourself.”

Bishop nods in agreement, taking McGee’s hand. “Hang in there McGee,” she says reassuringly. “Tony will be here soon. He’ll get us out of this.”

Gibbs’ heart lightens at the faith that Bishop and McGee have that Tony will rescue them. This faith that they used to only reserve for him has now also been transferred to Tony during the years leading up to Gibbs’ impending retirement.

One more week, he tells himself, then no more getting bashed in the head, or shot, or kidnapped. Tony is going to be so pissed with him for getting himself and the team ambushed, captured and injured.

McGee starts to fade away, and Bishop starts calling his name to no avail.

“McGee!” Gibbs barks.

“Yes Boss?” McGee opens his eyes, answering obediently.

“Stay with us.”

“I’m trying, Boss,” McGee groans weakly. “Boss?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you can settle something for us.”

“What?”

“In case I ch-check out.”

“Nobody’s checking out, McGee,” Gibbs says impatiently.

“Not planning to,” McGee gasps. “But just in case. You have to settle this one thing.”

Gibbs sighs. “What is it?” he asks softly, leaning closer to McGee to ensure that he doesn’t miss anything.

“W-why do you call Tony ‘Honey’?”

Gibbs pulls back, surprised.

“What!?” he asks, outraged.

“There’s a pool…”

“I know about the pool,” Gibbs says shortly.

“Then I need to at least know if Delilah is supposed to get money…if I don’t get out of this.”

Gibbs rolls his eyes and glares at McGee who continues to pant in pain and somehow look both pitiful and innocent at the same time. He turns to Bishop who is stifling a smile, despite the gravity of the situation.

“Possibly your last conversation on earth and you want to know the reason why I call your Team Lead ‘Honey’?” he says incredulously.

“Well Gibbs, you did just stop him from giving you a message for Delilah,” Bishop says reasonably.

McGee nods. “Besides I’m sure this conversation will help keep me awake. So I can tell Delilah what I want to tell her myself.”

Gibbs glares at both McGee and Bishop, wondering how on earth these two now had the guts to pull this on him.

“Why don’t you ask DiNozzo?” he barks out.

“We have,” McGee says. “He refuses to talk about it.”

“Plus the last time anyone called him Honey – other than you of course – Tony challenged him to spar with him and he beat the snot out of the guy. Nobody’s ever going to call him Honey like that ever again,” Bishop said proudly. “So we’re kind of a little scared to ask him again.”

Gibbs grins at that memory. Ever since his and Tony’s relationship and marriage became public knowledge, people still steered clear of him but for some reason, quite a few people felt like they could get in Tony’s face. Tony has had to publicly and thoroughly beat down at least two men – both younger and in their prime – who had thought that because Tony was in a relationship with a man and Gibbs had accidentally called him ‘Honey’ in the bullpen, that they could openly call him Honey and walk all over him. Tony had showed them decisively and with an easy smile on his face that only one person – _ever_ – called him Honey. And there had been no further questions about Tony’s toughness or abilities.

“And you’re not scared to ask me?” Gibbs asks softly.

“Well, Boss, I’m kind of dying here, right?” McGee struggles to get the words out, even though he is smiling faintly. “Figure our chances are better of you telling us.”

“Tony’ll just beat the crap out of McGee if he asks him again.”

Gibbs sighs and pushes down hard on McGee’s wound, causing him to gasp in pain. “What are the choices?” he finally asks.

Bishop exchanges a wide smile with McGee. “Reasons why you might call Tony ‘Honey’: a) Because Tony is a sweetie pie, b) Tony’s skin tone is kind of honeyish I guess – I don’t really see this one, I think it’s more olive than anything else, c) Tony’s such a sweet talker, d) Tony has a sweet ass – you’ve been known to call him Honeybuns way before anyone knew about your relationship, or so scuttlebutt says, e) and this is Abby’s personal favorite, that Tony tastes sweet. Finally f) no real reason, it’s just a random endearment that stuck.”

Gibbs chuckles. “These are the choices in the pool?” he shakes his head.

“Most people think it’s because of option c,” McGee says.

“They think that Tony sweet-talked himself into my arms?” Gibbs asked, one eyebrow raised.

McGee shrugs, wincing in pain.

“What do you guys think?” Gibbs’ blue eyes flash with amusement.

“Well, Abby has money on Tony tasting sweet,” Bishop said. “My money is on you thinking Tony’s a sweetie pie.”

“I think you like his ass,” McGee pants out. “You stare at it when you think people aren’t looking sometimes.”

“I stare at DiNozzo’s ass?” Gibbs scoffs. “I don’t stare at DiNozzo’s ass.”

“Yeah, you do. All the time, Boss,” McGee assures him. “It’s never obvious, but we’re around you enough. I notice it.”

Gibbs finds his face getting hot. So he stares at Tony’s ass. He couldn’t even deny it. Tony does have a sweet ass, and he does call him Honeybuns at times.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” McGee starts to crow.

Growling under his breath, Gibbs glares at his two subordinates. “I can’t believe we’re discussing this.”

“You have to tell us,” McGee says, trying to look even more pathetic than he already does.

Shaking his head, Gibbs grunts unhappily. “You’re all right. Everything but option f. It’s not random. Or I could call him any other endearment. But he’s my honey. He’s sweet everywhere, his skin is honey-gold, his hair is honey-brown, he has a honeyed tongue, he’s a fucking sweetie pie, he has a sweet ass, and he does taste unbelievably sweet – like honey,” he says it quickly and gruffly.

“Oh my god. Gibbs is blushing!” Bishop squeals.

“Shit! No big money winner,” McGee laments.

“Does Tony really taste sweet, like honey?” Bishop asks. “What, his skin?”

Gibbs clears his throat, trying to control the blush. “Yep,” he says shortly.

“His skin tastes like _honey_?” Bishop repeats, doubtfully.

“You can lick him if you don’t believe me,” Gibbs mutters.

Bishop looks at him as if she is contemplating this. “Nah,” she shakes her head. “He’ll beat the shit out of me next time we spar if I try that on him. Abby though, she might be able to get away with it.”

“Really? He tastes like honey?” McGee says disbelievingly.

“Yeah. His skin. His lips. His mouth. His tongue. His cum.”

Both McGee and Bishop gasp and stare at each other, suddenly horrified at Gibbs’ words.

“Did you just say…?” Bishop squeaks out.

“We’re all adults here. I like how his cum tastes. It’s surprisingly sweet. Makes for a good breakfast.”

“OK,” McGee looks green, as if he is about to throw up and not because of the gunshot wound, “OK I think we need to change the subject. Like, right now.”

“You asked me the question,” Gibbs says reasonably. “I’m only answering after you pestered me to.”

“I think I know too much now,” McGee groans. “I can’t un-hear this. Especially the breakfast comment.”

“You’re telling me you don’t like sex in the mornings?” Gibbs asks. “No better way to start the day than a good fuck.”

“You’re doing this on purpose now, Boss,” McGee wonders if he should close his eyes, plug his ears with his fingers and start humming to drown Gibbs’ words out. “Stop. I don’t need that visual.”

Gibbs grins wickedly and starts opening his mouth.

“No! You’re not going to tell me you like sucking Tony’s cock in the mornings,” McGee interrupts.

“I was gonna, but looks like you went and said it for me,” Gibbs says mildly.

“Argh!” McGee half screams, trying to stop the visual from flooding his brain – images of Gibbs’ lips wrapped around Tony’s hard dick, his head moving up and down on it, and Tony thrusting in and out of Gibbs mouth, fucking him, no doubt moaning with pleasure. “You’re evil! Somebody head slap me, quick!”

“That would be like kicking a puppy, McGee,” Gibbs tells him, eyes wide with faked concern. “You’re injured. I don’t need to get you even more hurt than you already are.”

“You’re cruel, Boss,” McGee groans.

“Abby is going to hate that she missed this conversation!” Bishop grins.

“I thought surely you were going to ask who tops and who bottoms,” Gibbs muses. “I thought the pool on that one was bigger.”

McGee makes a strangled noise and looks like he is about to have an aneurysm and Bishop is wide-eyed with wonder. And in that moment, they hear muffled booms and the ground shakes.

Gibbs grins, a feral grin. “Tony’s here,” he says simply. “Bishop, pull the crates over here to block us from direct view of the door. I don’t want to move McGee. I have my knife and I think McGee’s backup weapon is still in his ankle holster – you take that. Get ready to defend us, but don’t shoot blindly. No friendly fire accidents.”

Bishop snaps to and after several minutes of muffled booms and rat-a-tats of muffled machine gun fire, things quiet down. Minutes later it is still silent. Finally, they hear the bar drawn back from the door with a metallic skree and the door opens slowly inwards with a loud creak. The door needs some WD-40, the thought runs fleetingly through Gibbs’ head.

“NCIS!” they hear a familiar voice announcing. “Federal Agents!”

“Tony!” Bishop yells. “We’re in here! McGee is hurt.”

The door opens and Tony peers in cautiously, the barrel of his automatic weapon preceding him.

“We’re alone in here,” Gibbs calls out. “Behind the crate. Get EMTs. McGee’s been shot.”

Tony and a couple of other agents, including the new probie on their team, armed in Tactical gear – Kevlar vests stenciled with NCIS and ATF, heavy steel-toed boots, and heavy weaponry – flow into the room and clear it, and Tony calls for medical assistance through his comm-link. He heads straight behind the crate, eyeballs his team, noting that Bishop is unharmed, Gibbs looks beaten up a little with a bleeding lump on his head, and McGee is on the floor bleeding out.

“Took ya long enough,” Gibbs tells him, suppressing a smile. He glances at his watch surreptitiously. Tony has beaten his estimated time of arrival by ninety minutes.

“Check in with me before you head to your next stop, next time,” Tony says curtly. “The cavalry would’ve been here sooner if you’d done that.”

“No signal,” McGee gasps. “Not the Boss’s fault.”

Tony rolls his eyes at his team’s loyalty to Gibbs. “Hang in there McGee. Help’s here.”

“ATF?” Bishop asks, eyes flicking to the ATF agents now looking into the empty weapons crate.

“Yeah, I’ll fill you in later,” Tony says as the EMTs arrive and begin working on McGee. He stands and pulls Gibbs away from McGee to allow the EMTs room to work, and takes him off to the side. Bishop restrains the new probie from going with them.

“B-but Agent DiNozzo said to stick to him like glue,” the young woman said.

Bishop shook her head once. “Give them a minute.”

The new probie looks back at the two men now standing close together, speaking softly, their body language intimate even though they are not touching. Her eyes open wide as she realizes what everyone knows about the feared Leroy Jethro Gibbs and his famed second, Anthony DiNozzo. “No. Really?” she says in disbelief. “Really?”

Bishop rolls her eyes, and flashes a look at McGee who rolls his eyes back at her, trying to ignore the EMTs. _Everyone_ knew about Tony and Gibbs now. Not just at NCIS, but all the alphabet agencies and DC Metro know about them.

“But Agent DiNozzo’s so…” the young woman peters away, unsure how to finish the sentence. In the week or so that she has been assigned to the MCRT after extensive interviews with Special Agents DiNozzo, McGee and Bishop, DiNozzo has been kind, helpful, instructive, funny yet stern and slightly aloof. But he is tall, distinguished and handsome, and women seemed to swoon at his feet, especially when he turns on the charm and flirtatiousness which he doesn’t hesitate to do when he needs a witness to speak. He wears a wedding ring, but never speaks about his wife (husband, she corrects herself). He’d seemed to her the quintessential married law enforcement official – someone so married to the job that his marriage and his wife (husband) are neglected, and his fidelity probably questionable, given his looks, the women that throw themselves at his feet even in the one week that she has been on the team, and the mischievous glint in his eye. Despite his metrosexual presentation: expensive designer clothes and impeccable sense of style, the probie had thought that Agent DiNozzo was as straight as they came, and an incurable ladies man.

“So…what?” Bishop asks, prompting her to continue.

“I don’t know. So not married to a man, for one,” she shakes her head. “He seems so I don’t know – not married at all, never mind to a man. And Agent Gibbs? Married to Agent DiNozzo?” her tone is hushed.

“Seriously? Little P, you didn’t know?” McGee grits out. Little P is what Tony has decided to call the new Probie, claiming that three probies on the team called Probie would make life confusing for him. “Ow!” he yells at the EMTs when they insert the IV and place a bag of plasma on his chest while they moved him onto a board. “That’s been public knowledge for years.”

“They even wear their rings now, Little P,” Bishop shakes her head.

“How long have they been together?” the new team member cannot seem to tear her eyes away from the two men speaking quietly. Gibbs has one of Tony’s hands in his, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of the younger man’s hand.

“Decades, Little P,” Bishop snaps at her. “Now stop gawking and give them a minute.”

Guiltily the young agent looks away and watches as McGee, her new tough-as-nails Senior Field Agent, bitches about the rescue time and how Tony should have found them earlier, ignoring the EMTs working on him and fact that he has been shot.

“Sir, Agent DiNozzo mobilized in record time, sir,” the young agent defends Tony. “He put the pieces together faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, and realized that this investigation crossed with an ongoing ATF op so he called them in and we all found ourselves in a briefing room and in a joint op with ATF, and then out here reconning and carrying out the rescue operation within a few hours of you guys going missing.”

McGee gives her a wicked grin, and the young woman realized that she’d just been tested. “Don’t call me sir,” McGee says mildly. His eyes flick quickly to Tony and Gibbs and he sees Tony gently touch Gibbs’ bleeding head wound before he leads Gibbs back to them by the hand.

“Gibbs is going to go with you and McGee to the hospital,” Tony tells the EMTs. “Make sure he gets checked out. I’m pretty sure he’s got a concussion.”

The EMTs look up and nod, seeing Gibbs’ condition.

“I’m not going on a stretcher,” Gibbs says firmly.

Tony gives a put upon sigh. “Nobody said you need to be wheeled out of here, Boss. But go to the hospital. Get checked out. Stay with McGee,” he says. McGee is surprised by the fact that Tony is clearly giving Gibbs orders without the older man balking.

Gibbs squeezes Tony’s hand and turns to face him. “I’m OK,” he murmurs softly.

Tony nods tightly, his jaw clenching.

Surprisingly, Gibbs pulls him in for a tight hug. “I’m OK, honey,” he says quietly. “You go do your job. I’ll go with McGee. And I’ll get myself checked out as well.”

“Promise?” Tony’s whispered response makes Bishop almost tear up with the love expressed in just that one word.

“Promise.”

“Go. I’ll check in on you guys later,” Tony gives Gibbs a gentle kiss on the lips and watches as he walks away with the EMTs and McGee.

McGee waves to them weakly and his last sight of them as he is taken away is of Tony barking out orders, Bishop and Little P and the other agents, even the ATF agents, scrambling to obey him, and the intense frown on Tony’s face, so different from his usual happy-go-lucky persona.

Tony has started showing more of himself to the world in the last few years, especially since the truth about his and Gibbs’ relationship came out. Tony still joked and laughed and occasionally pranked people, still is an incurable gossip (seemingly now to have insider information on most of the alphabet organizations in DC and not just NCIS) although he mostly listens and notes and rarely if ever passes on the information that he knows, and he still appears to need Gibbs’ approval, but McGee has seen enough glimpses of the quiet, serious, confident and incredibly intense person that Tony hides underneath his public persona. And this person is apparently who Gibbs had been seeing, had been in love with all these years. McGee has definitely felt good about the fact that Tony has trusted him enough to show him these glimpses of the real Anthony DiNozzo. After all, he is going to be Tony’s Senior Field Agent when Gibbs retires in a week.

McGee smiles to himself, even as he succumbs to the blessed oblivion of the pain meds that the EMTs have given him. He is going to be Tony’s SFA in a week. While Gibbs’ retirement is not something neither he nor Tony is looking forward to, he is looking forward to being Tony’s second. Something they had discussed some years ago and is now coming to pass.

In the ambulance, Gibbs submits to an examination and when they get to the hospital, McGee is taken into surgery and Gibbs is checked out, sent for a CT scan before being admitted and sent to a room for the night for concussion checks. Abby shows up to keep him company – sent to keep him from signing himself out against medical advice by Tony, no doubt – and giving in to her huge, sad eyes, he stays in the hospital bed while Abby dozes in a chair in his room. Palmer visits every so often to give them updates on McGee’s condition – surgery has been completed, and although he’d lost a lot of blood, none of his vital organs had been hit. A very lucky shot indeed. Gibbs even speaks to Ducky on the phone – Ducky has been retired for a year now and is currently somewhere in Southeast Asia, ‘gallivanting’, as he calls it.

Gibbs is woken up every two hours by the nurses for his concussion checks. The third time he is woken up, he finds that Tony has crawled onto the bed and is sleeping, face tucked into the crook of his neck, one arm thrown around his waist and one still-booted leg thrown over his legs, over his blankets. Gibbs scoots an arm around Tony’s body and pulls him close and glares his patented death glare when the nurse tries to wake his sleeping husband. Seeing the fierce and protective look in Gibbs’ eye, she backs off from Tony and sticks to the concussion questions, leaving quickly after Gibbs gives her correct responses.

Tony is still dressed in his tactical gear, his Kevlar vest thrown carelessly onto a chair. Abby is dozing in the chair by his bedside. Looking at his two favorite people, Gibbs sighs and relaxes back into sleep. He’s safe and for now, all he can do is sleep.

Tony sleeps through his next concussion check – and by this time Gibbs is sick and tired of being woken up. His head throbs dully and the lack of coffee is making him grumpy. Abby wakes up and crawls into the bed with him, snuggling up to his other side with a small sigh. She pets Tony’s hair, but he is completely out of it and doesn’t even stir. Abby smiles up at Gibbs and starts signing.

_He’s so sweet when he’s asleep._

Gibbs raises an eyebrow but smiles and nods.

_He was so worried when you guys went missing. And really mad you didn’t check in with him before going to the farm._

Gibbs makes a face and rolls his eyes.

 _You’re in big trouble now, mister,_ Abby’s eyes twinkle mischievously.

“Go back to sleep,” Gibbs whispers to her, unable to sign back as he has one arm around Tony and the other around Abby.

Abby grins up at him, kisses his cheek, and hugs him hard. _I have to go back to work. My babies should have some results for me for this case._

Gibbs nods and grins at her, kissing her temple. Abby drops a gentle kiss in Tony’s hair and smiles as he stirs, clutching the front of Gibbs’ hospital gown, but doesn’t awaken. She hugs Gibbs, climbs off the bed, gathers her things, and waves, signing and mouthing _Love you both_ before she leaves.

Awake now, Gibbs holds Tony and watches as the sky begins to light up. He knows that he should probably wake Tony up so he can go back to work but he is too content, lying in bed, holding Tony close to him, feeling his heartbeat, strong and steady, and his quiet breathing with the occasional slight snuffle snore – a cute reminder of his bout with the plague. A quiet knock sounds and Vance peeks around his door before coming in to the room. He frowns at the sight of his soon to be MCRT Team Lead sprawled fast asleep on his soon to be retired MCRT Team Lead, the former still dressed in his tactical gear.

“He’s only been here a couple of hours,” Gibbs says quietly. “I’ll get him up.”

Vance lays a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder, ignoring Gibbs’ urgent head shakes. “DiNo--" and finds himself staring at the business end of Tony’s service weapon.

“DiNozzo, stand down,” Gibbs barks out.

Immediately, Tony lowers his weapon and frowns, confused. His sleep fogged brain finally registers that he has just pulled his weapon and aimed it at the Director of NCIS and that he is still lying practically on top of Gibbs in Gibbs’ hospital bed in front of said Director of NCIS, and he blushes. “Sorry,” he mutters to Vance, as he holsters his gun and starts levering himself upright.

Gibbs pulls him close and kisses his lips gently before helping him sit up. Tony looks at his watch and jumps off the bed. “Shit!” he curses. “I gotta go, Jet. You feeling OK?”

“I’m good. Go,” Gibbs grins at him, smiling as Tony pats himself down to ensure everything is in place and grabs his Kevlar. “Honey, can you ask the nurse to bring me a coffee from the nurse’s lounge?” Gibbs asks him.

Tony grins. “I’ll get you coffee before I go.” He nods and tells Vance good morning with a grin before he leaves the room.

“Gibbs,” Vance nods at him.

Gibbs nods back.

“Good to see you’re OK.”

“Didn’t have to stay here overnight except DiNozzo sent Abby to guilt me into it,” Gibbs says wryly.

“I bet retirement is looking pretty good.”

Gibbs chuckles softly and nods. He looks fondly at his old friend. Their friendship has suffered since the truth about his and Tony’s relationship came to Vance’s attention. Tony has never been able to get over the fact that Vance was happy enough to try to cast him aside, and only had to keep Tony happy in order to keep the MCRT intact. After he retires, Gibbs isn’t even sure if Tony will choose to remain at NCIS. Even though he has become openly more serious and focused in recent years, gradually shedding the carefree frat boy persona and letting more of his real personality show, Tony is still wary of Vance and has cultivated relationships with other alphabet agencies, becoming somewhat close to Tom Morrow, former NCIS Director, now with Homeland.

“He’s jumpy,” is all Vance says about having a gun shoved in his face.

“Tried to warn you. He gets that way on some cases, and he’s still in case mode – didn’t even shower or change, just needed to sack out for a couple of hours.”

Vance nods, knowing that he won’t underestimate a sleeping DiNozzo again. “He has everything under control,” Vance tells him.

“I know.”

“He did a great job coordinating with the ATF and leading the op. They apprehended the weapons smugglers and he broke them down in Interrogation overnight. They’re pulling the threads and finding their way up the food chain now.”

“Good,” Gibbs nods. “Are you surprised, Leon?”

Vance sighs and shakes his head. “No. Just wanted to keep you updated.”

Gibbs grins. “You’re nervous. About me retiring.”

“I don’t suppose DiNozzo will stay after you retire?” Vance asks quietly.

Gibbs sighs. “Leon, we haven’t talked about it in a while. And even if we had, you’d still have to talk to DiNozzo yourself.”

Vance nods reluctantly.

The subject of their conversation bursts in with a steaming cup of coffee and a big smile. Vance watches as Tony hands the coffee to Gibbs and gently examines his head and looks into his eyes. “Sure you’re OK?” he asks quietly.

“You’ve hit me harder,” Gibbs grins.

“Fuck you,” Tony says with such love that Vance has to look away, suddenly aching with the pain of missing Jackie. She had had that talent of insulting him but so lovingly that he couldn’t really object when she did it. Although maybe with more PG-13 language since their kids came along. “I have to get back to work – we’re going to be finishing this up. Talked to your doctor earlier, he says he’ll let you go home today after another precautionary CT scan. Your go-bag is in the bathroom. I’ll send someone to pick you up and take you home later.”

“You don’t need to send anyone to pick me up. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Please?” Tony gives him the puppy dog eyes, his green eyes large and mournful.

Gibbs rolls his eyes and nods and shakes his head in disbelief as Tony gives him his shit-eating grin.

“I have to get back and see what’s happened during my nap,” Tony says, now all business.

Gibbs nods. “How’s McGee?”

“He’s good. I looked in on him before I came in here. Delilah is with him and he’s going to make a full recovery. Incredibly lucky, as shots go,” Tony’s phone rings and he glares at it. “DiNozzo,” he answers curtly. “I’ll be right there.” He hangs up, puts a knee on the bed, leans forward, and ignoring Vance, kisses Gibbs thoroughly. “We’re not done talking about what happened yesterday,” he says quietly.

Gibbs nods reluctantly.

“Love you,” Tony leans to whisper in his ear.

“Love you too,” Gibbs tells him, not caring that Vance can hear him.

“Director,” Tony nods politely to Vance before he strides out, already starting to bark out orders on the phone.

“He gets more and more like you as the years pass,” Vance notes.

“Nah,” Gibbs says. “He’s himself. And that’s a good thing.”

“Sounds like you might be in trouble.”

“I didn’t check in with him before going to the farm. He didn’t know where we were.”

Vance nods. “So you _are_ in trouble.”

Gibbs nods.

Vance grins. “He’s a good Team Lead and a good husband.”

Gibbs gives Vance his trademark smirk. “Yes, he is. I’m glad you see it.”

Vance nods seriously. “I’ve been observing him for years now – and for a long time I was fooled by his masks. But I know his value to NCIS – not just as the cement for the MCRT, but what he does for the team during investigations. I see now how he hid all that for so long. Why he does it, I don’t understand, but I do see that he does it.”

Gibbs grunts a response, and sips his coffee.

“Morrow told me he does that by design. He _wants_ to be underestimated. Why is that?”

Gibbs raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure you have theories, Leon.”

Vance sighs. “Sure. But it all leads to conclusions I don’t like.”

“Then your theories are probably right,” Gibbs tells him. He sits up and carefully stretches his neck. His headache is getting worse, but he wants to shower, get dressed and leave.

Vance nods. “I’d better get back to work.”

Gibbs nods. As Vance reaches the door and starts to open it, he asks. “Why did you come here, Leon? It’s just a concussion. Why’d you need to visit me in the hospital for that?”

“Have you considered that perhaps I was checking in on McGee and decided to check in on you too?”

Gibbs gives him a glare and Vance sighs.

“Fine. Although I did want to make sure you and McGee were OK.”

“And?”

“And I was hoping you would convince DiNozzo that he doesn’t have to leave NCIS when you retire.”

Gibbs grins. “Tony is his own man. You should try convincing him instead of me.”

“I know that. But I do know that if I get his husband on my side the talk might go better.”

“I only want whatever makes Tony happy,” Gibbs says quietly. “Just so you know, he invited Morrow to my retirement party next week.”

“Your super secret surprise retirement party?”

Gibbs snorts. As if there is a secret at NCIS that he doesn’t know about.

Vance stares at Gibbs for a long moment before he nods and leaves, his fingers slipping into his pocket to pull out a wrapped toothpick.

Later that morning, after he is discharged, Gibbs checks in on McGee who is doing well. Then he glares and intimidates the new probie into taking him to the Navy Yard instead of home. He strides into the bullpen, the young woman trailing behind him.

“Sitrep!” he barks, and Tony and Bishop jump up and catch him up on their investigation. They are finishing up and are starting on the paperwork, along with their ATF counterparts. Gibbs glares at ATF agent Zoe Keates who is lounging lazily at DiNozzo’s desk. She smiles saucily at him, knowing that she has pushed his buttons before with Tony when they first reunited after being beat cops together in Philly. Gibbs has to forcefully push away his jealousy as he watches Zoe interacting with Tony.

ATF is pleased with this op. NCIS’s involvement in the investigation has allowed them to stop the whole ring as their main source of weapons has been shut down and they have identified and apprehended the Marines connected with the organization.

Gibbs listens to the updates and nods his satisfaction. Tony says nothing about the fact that Gibbs has turned up at work instead of going home per his doctor’s orders, but Gibbs is not looking forward to the discussion that he knows is awaiting them when they get home.

That night, as they pack up to leave for the night, Bishop complains about the outcome of the office pool regarding what Gibbs calls him. “I can’t believe practically all the options were right,” she whines.

Tony shakes his head and snorts in disbelief. “I can’t believe we’re even talking about this.”

Bishop looks at him speculatively.

“What?” Tony starts smoothing down his hair. “Do I look funny?”

“It’s just that Gibbs says you taste sweet.”

“Do not lick me, Bishop,” Tony says sternly, not looking up from packing his backpack.

“Well Gibbs said even your – ahem – cum is sweet.”

“ _What?!_ ” Tony splutters, and Little P’s eyes are bugging out of her head at this conversation. “Jethro?” he glares at Gibbs, actually calling him by his first name at work, something he never does when others are within earshot.

Gibbs shrugs. “They asked. I answered with the truth.”

Tony scrubs his face with his hands. “You had to go _there_?” he groans.

“He even mentioned something about it being good for breakfast?” Bishop says as innocently as she can.

“What the fuck, Jet?” Tony glares at Gibbs who grins unrepentantly. “You do realize I still have to work with these people after you retire?”

Gibbs shrugs a response.

“Pretty sure Little P is going to quit by the end of the week,” Bishop says, grinning wickedly at the young woman whose eyebrows have completely disappeared under her bangs.

Tony spares a glance at the red-faced, wide-eyed young woman and curses under his breath. Well, Gibbs went through way more probies, especially before Tony was hired, so perhaps he won’t be too hard on himself if the Little P doesn’t last on the team. “Why did the subject even come up? Why’d you even answer this question, Boss?” Tony turns back to Gibbs, a strangely Gibbsian death glare trained at him.

“Needed to keep McGee awake and with us,” Gibbs says in a conciliatory tone.

“Yeah, he implied he was dying and that he needed to know the outcome of the office pool,” Bishop agrees.

“So _Probie_ asked the question? With his supposed dying breath, he wanted to know _this_?”

“He’s still upset that there’s no big money winner in the pool,” Bishop says sadly.

Tony takes a deep breath as they all troop onto the elevator. “Seriously? This is what you guys wanted to know? I would have thought Probie would have asked who topped whom since that pool is bigger,” he shakes his head in disappointment.

Gibbs laughs out loud as the elevator doors close on them.


	2. Chapter 2

After work, Tony and Gibbs stop by the hospital to check in on McGee. They find Delilah and their little girl there with him, along with Breena Palmer. Victoria is at a friend’s house that evening. McGee is awake and raring to leave the hospital, and the group has a good time teasing and bantering. Abby and Bishop both show up soon after and Palmer calls to apologize about not visiting that night as he has a double homicide to work on.

Despite it being in a hospital room, conversation is light and everyone is having a good time. But Tony notices when both McGee and Gibbs start to droop.

“Alright,” he stands, hands on his hips. “I think it is time to break this party up. I’m exhausted and McGunShotWound over there looks like he needs a nap. So it’s time for Gibbs and me to haul ass.”

As one, Abby, Bishop, Delilah and even McGee cock their heads and examine Tony’s ass.

“What?” Tony looks down at himself, wondering if he’d sat in something or if someone had stuck a ‘kick me’ sign on him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet,” Abby tells Bishop, who nods thoughtfully.

“Are we _still_ on this subject?” Tony throws up his hands and turns to glare at Gibbs who shrugs and grins, happily holding McGee and Delilah’s daughter in his lap.

“If I licked him, then it wouldn’t be sexual harassment in the workplace,” Delilah says. “He can’t get me fired for it.”

“I’d do it, but I actually think Jimmy wants to try that himself,” Breena says, frowning.

“Oh for fudge’s sakes!” Tony has learnt to be careful with his language around McGee’s daughter. “Seriously? Not you, too, Delilah! And Breena? I’m shocked!”

“I’ll bide my time and find some way to lick him, Delilah. We’ll find out about the skin. The, uh, other bodily fluid thing we’re just going to have to take the Bossman’s word for,” Abby says.

“For crying out loud, no one is licking me but Gibbs, so anyone else who tries it is not going to like what I do to them,” Tony growls. “I am an expert supergluer so you’d all better remember that!”

The nurse who walks in on Tony’s declaration gasps and looks at the group, eyes wide. Everyone bursts out laughing while Tony buries his face in his hands, yelling “Fudge!” and starts laughing too. “I’m serious. No licking the Very Special Agent! If your name isn’t Gibbs, you keep your tongues off this Very Special Agent. I will superglue it to your desk, if you attempt any kind of lickage. Think _A Christmas Story_ , but much, much worst!”

“Very Special Team Lead Agent!” Bishop exclaims. “Very Special Agent Team Lead? Or would that be Very Special Team Lead minus the Agent? We’re going to have to think about this.”

“Well you guys think about it. Gibbs and I are leaving. McGee – get some rest,” Tony clasps hands with McGee and gently pats his back.

“I’ll be back to work in a couple of days, Tony,” McGee says.

Tony exchanges a meaningful look with Delilah as he kisses her goodbye, silently reassuring her that McGee won’t return to work unless and until his doctor OKed it. Gibbs hugs McGee’s daughter and hands her back to Delilah before they leave.

When they get home, Gibbs leans into Tony’s body as the younger man helps him out of the car and into the apartment building. They have decided to spend the night at the apartment – a shorter drive, and both men are exhausted.

Once home, Tony helps Gibbs undress and deposits him in the shower while he goes in the kitchen and pulls some containers out of the freezer to be reheated as a quick dinner. He chooses some soup, thinking Gibbs will need something light, and cocks his head at the contents of the freezer, unsure of what else to pull out. Finally he pulls a small casserole dish out, pulls the lid off and covers it with foil, throwing it in the oven to warm up. Whatever else is wrong with him, Gibbs would never say no to his lasagna. With a sigh he closes the freezer door and goes back to the bedroom. He pulls out sweatpants and t-shirts for them both, laying them neatly on the bed before heading to the bathroom. He picks up Gibbs’ discarded clothes, folds them and places them in the laundry basket and the dry cleaning basket. He takes his own clothes off and repeats the procedure before stepping into the shower, wrapping his arms around Gibbs’ waist from behind, tucking his face into Gibbs’ neck, and just holding him tightly under the hot sprays – the apartment’s shower has multiple heads, including a rainshower and adjustable side-mounted shower heads.

They stay there, unmoving, until the water begins to cool and they proceed to wash each other quickly. They dry off in silence and move to the bedroom to dress.

Gibbs completes dressing first and sits and watches as Tony pulls his favorite OSU sweatpants on.

“Are you going to start yelling at me soon?” he asks. “Cause I know you want to.”

Tony sighs as he throws himself down next to Gibbs, still barechested and holding his t-shirt, lying down while keeping his feet on the floor.

“Making me wait is even worse than you just yelling at me,” Gibbs says quietly.

“I’m not going to yell at you,” Tony finally says, putting one hand on Gibbs’ thigh. “You should have checked in with me before going to check out your new lead, and you, McGee and Bishop all knew that. The fact that you had no cell signal just means that you should have stopped, turned around and found a place with signal to apprise me of the situation before continuing on.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, honey. We got caught up in the investigation.”

“I know. I already tore Bishop a new one today.”

“OK. So my turn, then?”

Tony sighs. “Nah. You’re retiring next week, Jet. I just want to enjoy these last few days of working with you. I don’t want to yell at you. You know you should’ve called, and neither you nor McGee nor Bishop will make that mistake again. So I’m not going to yell at you.”

“You want to, though.”

“Not really,” Tony says sadly and Gibbs sighs and straddles him, leaning down and running his fingers through Tony’s hair. “I don’t want to yell at you. I just want you to be careful, and not get ambushed or injured or worse in these last few days of us working together. Solve a final case together. Get a headslap or two more from you.”

“Oh, honey. You know I should have retired years ago, right?” Gibbs says gently. “It’s past time now. I only stayed so long to keep working with you.”

Tony’s eyes fill with tears. “It’s just not going to be the same.”

“No, it isn’t. Because it’s time for you to fly without me clipping your wings.”

Tony sniffles and angrily knuckles away his tears. “When did you get so sappy, Jet?” he tries for annoyance and almost succeeds.

Gibbs kisses his tears away. “Don’t be sad, honey. It’s a new chapter of both our lives. Did you see how even the ATF were hopping to when you ordered them about?”

Tony grins at that. “I learned that from the best.”

“You’ll be the best Team Lead NCIS ever saw. You surpassed me years ago. You deserve this. I think Vance should be less worried about whether you’re staying on at NCIS or you just taking his job right out from under him. You know the SecNav loves you.”

“I want to be in the field.”

“Don’t limit yourself, honey. Unlike me, you’re good with people and you’d be a great Director.”

“Are you trying to make me take Vance’s job?”

Gibbs rolls his eyes. “I’m just trying to get through your thick skull that the sky’s the limit for you,” he says impatiently. “Morrow would give his right arm if you would go to Homeland. Probably make you head of some special taskforce and not just a Team Lead.”

Tony sighs. “I’m still just trying to wrap my head around the fact that after next week, you won’t go to work with me again.”

Gibbs kisses him gently. “But I’ll be here when you leave in the morning, and be here when you get home at night. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tony responds to the kiss, one hand in Gibbs’ hair pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. “That’s good. I like the sound of that.”

“Good,” Gibbs smiles and pulls away, looking into Tony’s green eyes. “You get what I’m saying though, right? It’s time you did whatever makes you happy at work. Whether you stay at NCIS or you leave. Team Lead, or Director. Whatever makes you happy, honey.”

Tony nods wordlessly, his eyes filling again.

“Leon tried to talk to me about it this morning, but I told him he needed to talk to you. I’m behind you all the way. Whatever you choose to do.”

Tony nods again. “What will you do while I’m at work all day?” he asks huskily, as Gibbs’ fingers gently tweak his nipple into a hard, pebbled nub.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll get started making furniture. I’m excited to start making you a new bed. It’s time for us to sleep in a bed that I made again in this apartment, don’t you think?”

“At least I gave up my little twin bed,” Tony grins wryly, remembering their adventures on (and off) his tiny bed.

“That goddamned symbolic tiny bed of yours,” Gibbs chuckles, shaking his head, sharing the amusement at the same memories.

“Any other things you’re planning to make?” Tony asks.

“Balboa commissioned me to make a crib for his granddaughter – due in a couple months. And I got a call for a dining set for one of my old Marine Corp buddies. I already have a backlog of new work to do, and you know I want to do this. I want to make things with my hands now, instead of breaking heads.”

“I know.”

Gibbs kisses him and grinds himself into Tony’s hardening cock. “Now let’s see if I can get you in a better mood,” he whispers, kissing his way down Tony’s bare chest, kneeling on the floor between his legs and pulling his pants down, freeing his erect cock.

He licks the moisture off the cockhead, smiling as Tony gasps and shivers deliciously. He licks his way down the top of his cock, all the way down to the base, and licks his way back up to the cockhead on the underside, paying special attention to the sensitive ridge of the cockhead.

“Please,” Tony begs.

“Tell me what you want,” Gibbs says huskily, keeping one hand on the base of Tony’s cock and reaching for the lube in the nightstand drawer.

“You,” Tony answers, pulling Gibbs’ t-shirt off and using both his hands and feet to start pushing Gibbs’ pants down.

“Eager,” Gibbs grins down at him.

“Missed you last night,” the younger man answers, palming Gibbs’ erection.

Together they move up the bed and Tony lies back against the pillows, watching Gibbs kneel in between his legs. The older man leans down and wraps his lips around Tony’s cock, immediately taking him all the way down to the base.

“Oh fuck!” Tony curses, involuntarily thrusting his hips up and his cock deeper down Gibbs’ throat, drawing his feet, knees up, opening himself up for Gibbs.

Gibbs swallows and hums, the vibrations causing Tony to shudder and moan. He bobs up and down, his tongue swirling and rubbing, his teeth grazing Tony’s cockhead lightly, and even after all these years, his beautiful Tony is still moaning and writhing helplessly under him, the way he always has since they first got together so many years ago. He lubes his fingers and pushes one into his tight hole, and Tony gasps, one hand fisting Gibbs’ hair.

“Fuck, Jet,” Tony moans, as Gibbs sucks on his cockhead, and strokes his dick, inserting a second finger into his ass and rubbing his prostate. “Oh god! Fuck! There! Yes, yes, oh god,” Tony begins the litany, thrusting into Gibbs’ mouth and pushing down on his fingers, his entire body tingling with the stimulation. Gibbs continues the assault, feeling Tony’s balls start to draw up. He glances over to Tony’s toes and sees them start to curl – Tony’s about to lose control.

He looks back up and sees Tony watching him with lust-glazed eyes. He smiles around the cock in his mouth and wickedly rubs Tony’s sweet spot, sucking hard on the cockhead.

Tony closes his eyes, and his mouth opens as he moans urgently. “Gonna come, oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” he moans, thrusting his cock deep into Gibbs mouth, and the older man takes him all the way down and allows him to fuck his mouth. The orgasm slams into him, and he screams Gibbs’ name as he empties himself down the man’s throat, whimpering when Gibbs continues to suck on him as his cock softens.

Gibbs releases his cock, kisses his way up his body and devours Tony’s mouth, the younger man tasting himself in Gibbs’ mouth. “Sweet,” Gibbs mumbles in between kisses, “Like I told Bishop and McGee. Your cum is sweet as honey. Taste it?”

“You’re delusional,” Tony mumbles back, his hand pumping Gibbs’ cock, smearing lube on it.

“Great for breakfast, lunch or dinner,” Gibbs quips, making Tony laugh helplessly.

“You’re such an ass,” he laughs. “Basta—oh fuck,” he breaks off, moaning when Gibbs’ lubed dick slams into him. “Fuck,” he closes his eyes as Gibbs begins thrusting into him, hard driving thrusts, slamming his prostate with every stroke. Amazingly his cock hardens again, and he begins moving with Gibbs, his legs wrapped around Gibbs’ waist, one hand on Gibbs’ hip, urging him in deeper, one hand stroking himself in time.

Gibbs is so ready to explode but the sight of Tony, eyes screwed shut and biting his lips, stroking himself – hard and ready to come again makes him want to keep fucking him. Grunting with every thrust, he keeps going, mercilessly pounding Tony into the mattress, watching as he unravels again and in a stream of curses and love words in English and Italian, the younger man strokes himself to completion, creamy jets spurting onto his belly, his muscles tightening around Gibbs’ dick. With a harsh growl, he thrusts into Tony’s body, filling him as he comes.

He slowly rouses himself, sliding out of Tony’s body and lying on his back, pulling the younger man onto him. Tony is still out of it, and he caresses the younger man as he comes back to himself. When Tony’s eyelids begin to flutter, he smiles and places a hand on the younger man’s cheek.

“Back with me, honey?” he asks.

Tony smiles and hums with satisfaction.

“I love it when I fuck the words right out of your head.”

Tony pries his eyes half open and hums again, unable to stop smiling.

“Well, at least you’re in a good mood again,” Gibbs smiles down at his husband, amazed that all these years later he still has this effect on Tony.

After a few more minutes of a silently blissed out Tony, he wraps an arm around Gibbs’ chest. “I don’t even know why we bother showering before dinner,” Tony says. “It would be so much more efficient if we had sex first and then showered.”

Gibbs laughs quietly. “Is that your way of telling me you want me to get you a washcloth and clean you up so you can just go to sleep?”

Tony lifts up his head and carefully puts his fingers near Gibbs’ head wound. “No, Jet. Let me clean you up. Then we’ll eat something and then go to bed.” He hauls himself off the bed and wipes himself down in the bathroom, bringing the warm wet washcloth to the bedroom and wiping Gibbs down. They slip their sweats and t-shirts back on and head to the kitchen where Gibbs sits while Tony heats up the homemade cream of chicken soup and dishes out the heated up lasagna. Gibbs eats with good appetite.

“Take these,” Tony holds out a couple of pain pills. “I know you’re hurting.”

“I didn’t get a prescription…”

“I told Little P to fill it and bring it to me when she went to pick you up. Figured you wouldn’t just go home,” Tony grins. “Take them,” he insists.

Gibbs sighs and downs the pills with his last swallow of beer and watches as Tony goes through his routine of cleaning everything up.

Then they do their nightly rituals, shed their clothes and slip into bed, Tony’s head on Gibbs’ chest, one arm around his waist and one leg in between his.

“You’re wrong you know,” Tony says quietly.

“I told you I was wrong already, honey,” Gibbs says, sighing as he closes his eyes. “I should have called in before pursuing the new lead.”

“Not that. Well yes, that. But I mean you’re wrong in that you’ve never clipped my wings.”

Gibbs sighs.

Tony leans up on one elbow and looks deep into Gibbs’ blue eyes. “You’ve always let me be me. You’re the only one who ever did that in my whole life, saw me for who I am, loved me for it, and taught me that who I am is OK. And through this all, you encouraged me to do more and be more,” he says seriously. “Don’t ever feel like you clipped my wings or held me back. I wanted to be with you. The job is nothing without you, and I’m thankful we got all these years together, working together and being together.”

Gibbs smiles and caresses Tony’s cheek with one calloused hand.

“Love you, Jet,” Tony says, his eyes filling with tears again.

“Love you too, honey,” Gibbs whispers back, carefully brushing the tears away with his thumb. “You do whatever makes you happy, OK? Just make sure you come home safe to me every night.”

“Gotcha Boss,” Tony says, smiling back and kissing Gibbs’ lips, soft, gentle kisses, before settling his head on Gibbs’ shoulder, face tucked into his neck, inhaling that scent – coffee, sawdust, hint of Old Spice – that is inherently Gibbs, sighing as his body relaxes. He falls asleep quickly, exhausted from the lack of sleep and the action packed couple of days, not to mention the orgasms.

Gibbs lies in the dark, gently caressing Tony’s back and sweet, sweet ass, smiling to himself. He is looking forward to retirement, making furniture, and watching Tony spread his wings and fly. Whatever happens, Gibbs is confident that McGee and Bishop will watch his six, and wherever they end up, it will be a great adventure. He will be the lucky man that Tony comes home to and tells all his stories to, while he works on building something beautiful. He knows that it is long past time that he builds Tony a new bed for the apartment, something even more beautiful than the first one he made all those years ago, a casualty of his Mexican hiatus and memory loss. He knows exactly the wood to get, the carvings he will etch in. It will be the best thing he has ever built, something just for his Honey.

He closes his eyes, happy and content with his life, something he never thought possible after the tragedies he’d suffered. His last thought before he lets sleep claim him is that he should start a new office pool to see who would be the first to succeed in licking Tony to confirm the sweetness of his skin. He smiles as he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, seriously thank you for all your lovely comments in the previous chapter! I will respond tomorrow when I'm more awake. I just wanted to make sure I posted the end of this story.
> 
> I know I usually have the music listed that helped inspire me, and I always do listen to music when I write. I hate repeating myself but I am seriously still obsessed with Adele's [Remedy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lE0g9C7Ge4) that I really can't list any other songs for this story.
> 
> Thank you again for all your support! Until the next time! :)
> 
> -j  
> xoxo


End file.
